


Wanting

by Savageseraph



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Exhaustion, Kissing, M/M, Minor Injuries, Sexual Fantasy, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-12-29 23:59:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savageseraph/pseuds/Savageseraph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard wanted things Thorin would never tolerate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanting

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://caras-galadhon.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://caras-galadhon.livejournal.com/)**caras_galadhon** , best of betas.

Richard scrubbed the back of his hand across his eyes, sighing with weariness as he tried to shed the scraps of Thorin that still clung to him. He’d lost all the trappings of the Dwarf lord, indulged in a hot shower, and slipped into a worn pair of jeans and equally soft t-shirt, but Thorin was a tenacious bastard. He was not so easily put aside. When Richard glanced at the mirror, it was Thorin’s heavy, intense gaze that met and held his own. He licked his lips, tasted blood from the cut that split his lip when he’d hit himself in the face with his own shield.

 _I’m tired._ Richard’s eyes slipped closed as he bowed his head. _And sore._ As days went, today had been a particularly exhausting one, filled with hard combat and long battle scenes. There wasn’t an inch of his body that didn’t ache with strain or fatigue. Or both. _Bed. I just want to fall into bed and--_

“That last take was brilliant.”

Richard’s eyes snapped open as his head came up. Andy moved into sight, reflected in the mirror behind him. He managed a weary smile. “As long as it looks brilliant on the screen.”

“It will.” There wasn’t the slightest hesitation or uncertainty in Andy’s response. Andy stopped just behind him, their bodies close but not quite touching. He frowned at their reflection before touching Richard’s jaw, turning his head to get a better look at the cut. The tip of his tongue brushed against his upper lip as his thumb rubbed lightly over the wound.

The touch sent a thrill of pain and shivery pleasure through Richard’s body. Andy’s thumb slipped a little, pressing down against Richard’s lower lip as he moved to face him. Richard couldn’t quite still the shiver at the thought of Andy’s thumb parting his lips, slipping inside where he could suck on it.

 _What the hell am I thinking?_ Richard knew he should step back, put some distance between them, but his body didn’t appear to be interested in the good sense his brain was providing.

“Does it hurt? Very much?” Andy’s voice was low, husky. His gaze never left Richard’s mouth.

 _He’s thinking about your mouth. How it would taste. How it would feel stretched around his cock._ The dark satisfaction at those thoughts was all Thorin. Richard half expected Andy’s hands to settle on his shoulders, urge him to his knees. After he’d undone his jeans, would he draw the head of his cock teasingly across Richard’s lips or give them a single firm nudge, assuming permission he wouldn’t ask for before pressing inside? _And you’d kneel for him too. Wouldn’t you?_

Richard swallowed heavily. “If you’re worried, perhaps you should kiss it and make it better.” The words were supposed to be flip, a quip to break the tension between them, but Richard’s voice was too uneven, his body too tight, to pull it off.

There was, perhaps, the faintest flicker of surprise in Andy’s eyes, but it passed so quickly, Richard couldn’t be sure it was there at all. Not like the slow smile that curved Andy’s lips. “You think I won’t do it.” It wasn’t a question.

Richard didn’t have time to either protest or apologize before Andy’s lips were on his. There were several soft kisses before Andy’s tongue grazed his lips, the tip slipping between them. He made a soft sound as his lips parted in invitation. Andy’s fingers curled around the back of his neck, tipping his head down so he didn’t have to lean up and holding him as he deepened the kiss. His tongue slid along Richard’s, rubbing, teasing, tasting.

_This is mad. It’s mad. It’s--_

An arm curled around Richard’s waist, tugging him firmly against Andy’s body, and a shudder ran through him at the contact. He shifted his hips, rubbing his erection against the hardness he felt trapped behind Andy’s jeans. He curled an arm around Andy’s waist. _It’s bloody **brilliant**._ When the kiss became more possessive, each brush of tongue as regular as a thrust, Richard ground his hips shamelessly against Andy’s and delighted in the ragged moan it drew from the other man.

When Andy broke the kiss, his eyes were dark, his breathing uneven. “I can more than make you forget that little hurt.” The words were full of dark promise. “If you want.”

Richard nodded, “I want.” He licked his lips. He wanted to bend, wanted to be taken. He wanted things Thorin would never tolerate, not even when he was deep in his cups. He wanted them enough that not even Thorin’s mocking laughter, soft and distant, mattered. “I _want_.”


End file.
